"I don't like this," I muttered.

James scratched the light blonde beard on his chin and narrowed his eyes. "I don't either, but we agreed this was the best way to give everyone a chance at a normal life."

"Normal. We've never had a normal life."

My skin crawled constantly as I watched Millie and Marianna huddling together across the dressing room. It had been three weeks since we escaped Volkov. Three weeks of hiding in the apartment and holding our breath for the fallout. Three weeks to decide there was no way we could go on like that indefinitely.

So, we hatched a plan to hold a press conference and announce to the world that Marianna Reed was alive, that she had a sister, and that Volkov was the mastermind behind everything that happened. It was dangerous to point fingers at him, but staying in the shadows where he could safely strike without repercussion was more dangerous. This way, at least if anything happened to us, everyone would know who was behind it. It would be enough to stay his hand.

I hoped.

"Fuck," James said as Marianna threw her head back, laughing at something Millie had said. "They could be twins now."

It was true. After Nadia acknowledged her identity as Marianna Reed, she'd asked us to help her color her hair and to call her by her actual name. It had taken her a long time to believe she could completely rid herself of the Volkovs, but once she decided to try, she refused to do it halfway.

Mrs. R had been more than happy to comply. With a few calls, an extensive background screening, and a signed NDA, she had the best hairstylist in the city to start the process of stripping the harsh black hair dye from Marianna's hair. The end result was a gorgeous shade of honey, sun streaked blonde that perfectly matched Millie's. The only difference was Marianna's was cut into a blunt bob just above her shoulders to get rid of the bleach damaged ends, and Millie's golden mane fell to the middle of her waist.

Thoughts of her hair made my fingers twitch with anticipation. Just last night, I had wrapped the silky strands around my fist while she was on her knees and her lips were around my cock. I'd already requested that she wear her hair up when we got married, so I could have the pleasure of taking it down before fucking her. She cheekily responded I hadn't proposed, and she would be open to opinions when I put a ring on her finger.

I touched the pocket inside my suit jacket, reassuring myself the ring I'd picked out almost three weeks ago was still there. Its weight, growing all too familiar, was slowly driving me mad. I could have proposed at any time. Millie would have said yes, but I wanted one thing in our lives to be normal. She deserved the proposal of the century, and a wedding of her design. And I couldn't give her either of those things until we were all safe.

"Hey," Millie said, sliding her arms around my waist and propping her chin on my chest. "What's with the brooding?"

Marianna and James stepped off to the side. All her earlier good humor was gone, and whatever they were saying was heated. Something was going on between the two of them, but I knew better than to stick my nose into their personal business.

"I'm not brooding," I protested, grabbing the ends of her long hair because I couldn't resist when they were so close. I lowered my voice and gave a gentle tug on the ends. "I was just thinking about last night."

"That's mean," she replied, her brown eyes deepening to nearly black.

"Why's that?"

"Because you're bringing it up right now, and we can't do anything about it."

"We have a few minutes before the conference starts."

My cock grew hard, and the sudden part of Millie's lips told me she felt the change between our bodies. I'd been kidding when I said it, but now, I searched the waiting area, looking for a bathroom or a closet to pull her into. Everyone would know exactly what we were doing, mostly because Millie was quite vocal about her pleasure. Remembering the way she screamed last night, coming on my tongue while she sat on the edge of the bathroom counter, nearly drove me to cancel this entire thing.

"Too bad," she said, stepping out of my arms. Her nipples tented her silk blouse. "We don't really have time, and now I'm going to have to stand in front of all those people with wet panties."

"Fuck," I growled, pulling her into a corner behind a changing screen. "How wet?"

"Soaking wet," she replied, then with a mischievous grin, she reached under her skirt and slipped her underwear off. She tucked the red lace into my hands. "There. Now you can think about how I'm not wearing any underwear."

I pushed her into the wall and kissed her, plundering her mouth with my tongue while grinding my hips into hers. "This is a terrible idea," I warned her. "I need to be alert and looking for threats. Not thinking about how it easy it would be to lift that ridiculous little skirt and slide inside you."

"You started it," she panted, whimpering as I gripped the edge of her skirt because fuck this. I needed to taste her.

"You two," Marianna called out. "Fix your clothes. They just texted we have ten minutes."

"I only need one," I promised, tugging up as Millie pushed my hands down.

"No," she said with a regretful sigh. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"Shit. Come on. I think it's across the hall."

"You don't have to come with me." She raised a finger to stop my protest. "We both know what will happen if you come with me. There are two bodyguards outside who can escort me. This place is under lock and key."

I exhaled. "Fine."

James smirked as I crossed the room after handing Millie off to the guards and watching her enter the bathroom across the hall. She was right. All of this was so I didn't have to hover over her every moment. That level of scrutiny, while for different reasons in the beginning, had driven her away from me before.

"Shut up."

James coughed behind his hand. "I didn't say anything."

"Your face did."

The man shrugged, his eyes settling on Marianna as she sat on a sofa thumbing through an outdated magazine. You didn't have to be particularly perceptive to know she wasn't really looking at the pages. Tension coiled between her and James, and because I needed something to take my mind off Millie being out of my sight, I broke my rule about probing into other people's personal life.

"What's going on between you two?"

James flinched. "Nothing."

"Really?"

He cut his eyes at me. "She's stubborn and doesn't think she needs anyone watching over her."

It was more than that, but I took the bait. "Sounds like a family trait."

"I've worked more security jobs than I can count, and these Reed women...they take the cake."

We laughed, and I looked at my watch. Millie had been gone for five minutes. Not an unusual amount of time if she was fixing her hair or makeup, but she hadn't gone in with any. I opened the door and felt all the air rush out of my lungs.

One of the bodyguards was clearly dead, his eyes open and unfocused. A deep gash across his throat left no questions about how he died. The other laid half inside and half outside of the bathroom. I pushed open the door, dropping to his side after a quick glance revealed the only other thing in the bathroom was a cleaning cart.

"What happened?" I demanded. We hadn't heard a sound outside.

The man held his hand over his stomach, and red ooze between his fingers. His words came out disjointed and breathy. "Woman. Cleaning cart. Millie—"

His eyes fluttered. I shook him, the shock and pain snapping him back to consciousness. "What about Millie?"

"Gone. She's gone."